


we must not look at goblin men

by goldkirk



Series: All This Happy Mess [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Magic, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldkirk/pseuds/goldkirk
Summary: Something is very, very wrong with Winona Kirk, and Jim and Sam are in more danger than they know. It's a toss-up whether either of them will make it out of this alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series of fics is 98% happy and fun, but this one story of pain won't leave me alone until I write it. After these three chapters, we should be back to the regularly scheduled nice stories again.

 

 

 

**_I saw pale kings and princes too,_ **

**_Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;_ **

**_They cried—‘ La Belle Dame sans Merci _ **

**_ Thee hath in thrall!’ _ **

_  
_

_-John Keats, La Belle Dame Sans Merci_

_  
_

* * *

 

_  
_

By age 15, magic came so naturally to Jim that it felt easier than slicing Jell-O with a steak knife. Magic had always _happened_ for him, even before he knew what it was, without requiring any real effort on his part. But _controlling_ it, using it on purpose, was very different than spontaneous flares of power, and learning how to direct the power took time for him to learn.

So learn he did, with the guidance of his grandparents, the enthusiastic encouragement of Gaila and her mom, and also a pretty healthy appetite for adventure. Jim could do a lot of different magic, but he had the biggest talent in Sun-based magic. His grandmother thought that was funny, because his Dad had apparently had a strong aptitude for magic stemming from the Moon. 

Not long after Jim had come to Grandpa Tib with all his questions after meeting Gaila and gotten the full family history of magic, Sam got the same talk too. But while Jim had a stronger than usual ability to use magic, Sam's still seemed nowhere to be found. Nor had Sam seemed to actually want anything to do with it in the first place—he was uncomfortable around blatant displays of magic, always worried someone else might see, or hissing at Jim that it wasn't even necessary so could he please stop.

"Well sure, it isn't  _necessary_ right now," Jim said, letting the loops of water splash gently back down into the creek, "but it's fun. Not everything has to be so serious, Sam."

"Just go one afternoon without magic, okay? That's all I ask."

Jim frowned slightly, as he didn't actually use magic all the time, which Sam was well aware of. But he let it go. "Okay, Sam."

They were both in high school now, which meant homework coming out their ears at all times, sports practices, school pranks, and sometimes girlfriends. The only person Jim had tried dating was Gaila, which they mutually agreed wasn't any more fun than just being friends and gave up quickly. Sam had had a few, though, and this last one, Aurie, seemed to be pretty serious. Jim kind of wondered if they were going to get engaged once they graduated the next year. 

All in all, between their happy home with their grandparents, the normal ups and downs of high school, and their respective groups of friends, Jim and Sam were pretty happy. 

So of course, that's when everything went to hell.

It didn't happen overnight, but it was a close thing. Jim had just shoved his way in the back screen door after getting dropped off by the bus, and was about to drop his backpack on the floor to grab some kind of snack when he suddenly realized that something was off. He actually looked up then, at the kitchen in front of him, and there were Grandma and Grandpa sitting at the table, and Sam slouched in his seat, and between them, in Jim's chair, sat—

_"Mom?"_

She smiled broadly, far more cheerful than the rest of the table. “Hello, Jimmy!”

Jim stood dumbly in the middle of the kitchen, mouth slightly open, backpack dangling by only one shoulder strap.

“Jim, dear,” said his grandmother softly, “are you going to say hello?”

Jim blinked. “Uh—Mom! Hi! I thought you weren’t going to be home for another few months?”

Winona spread her hands in a wide, sweeping gesture. “I decided I had enough of Europe for a while! The others can handle the rest of the contract work. I felt like I needed to be here for my boys, so back I came!”

“Uh, wow,” Jim said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Yeah, that’s great,” Sam said, not sounding like he meant it at all. Their grandfather glanced at him sharply without turning his head. Sam sighed. “It’s good to see you again, Mom.”

“It’s good to see you too, Sam! I’ve missed you boys!”

Sam and Jim exchanged a glance, then. There was a reason they lived with their grandparents, and that reason was that their mom couldn’t and hadn’t wanted to handle them after their dad had died while fighting overseas. She came home at least once a year or so to check in, hang around for a few weeks, spend some awkward but well-meant outings with them, but always dashed back off to whatever new job her overseas work had taken up this time.

Winona meant well. But it was Grandma and Grampa who had raised the boys, not her. This sudden change of heart was…unusual, to say the least.

“Well, you know you’re always welcome here, dear,” their grandma said to Winona with a smile. “Your room is still here. We’re happy to have you live with us for as long as you want.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you,” Winona said brightly. “But actually, I think I’m going to settle down with the boys in my own house!”

“Your own house?” Grandma looked startled. “You want to take the boys somewhere else?”

“Oh yes! I bought a house already, in Rome, Georgia. Funny name! I thought it would be a good place for the boys, with the warm weather and all. Lots of time to run around and play outside.”

“You know, dear, the boys are in high school now,” said Grandpa Tiberius. “It’ll be hard for them to move so far away when they’ve gotten used to all their friends and the course tracks at their school, and all of that. How soon are you planning on moving down there?”

“I was thinking maybe next week?”

_“What?”_ Jim hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the exclamation burst out before he could rein it in.

Grandpa Tib looked at him with the most serious look in his eyes Jim had ever seen. There wasn’t even a hint of his usual good-natured sparkle. “Jim,” he said. “Why don’t you and Sam go get your homework done, and we’ll let you know when dinner is ready?”

Jim recognized what his grandfather was trying to do, and nodded slightly. “Uh, sure. Yeah, good idea, we have lots of homework, you know how it is—come on Sam, let’s go.”

Sam got up without a word, and they hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs as quickly as they could. Safely shut behind the door of Sam’s room, they immediately started talking in agitated whispers.

“Shit, what is going _on?_ ” Sam hissed.

“Fuck if I know,” Jim whispered, yanking on his hoodie’s drawstrings. “When did mom get here?”

“Right after I parked the car. Just my luck, not having practice on the one day that mom comes home.”

Jim grimaced. “Does she seem weird to you, or is it just me?”

“No, definitely weird.” Sam was silent for a few moments, staring at the crack below the door. “Do you think we’re really going to move? Just like that?”

“There’s no way, right?” Jim shook his head vehemently. “She couldn’t just make us move like that. We’ve always lived here with Grandma and Grandpa Tib. Or well, mostly. You were with Mom and Dad for like, a month. But same thing.”

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “She still technically has legal guardianship, and is our actual parent. Legally, I think she can do whatever she damn pleases.”

“Grandma and Grandpa won’t let her do it though, right?” asked Jim. “They’ll talk her out of it. Right?”

“I hope so,” said Sam. But he sounded to Jim like he’d already accepted his fate.

Jim yanked the door open and swept into his own room, locking the door behind him. He dumped his bag on the bed, before sinking down onto the floor and burying his head in his arms. Why did their mom have to choose right now to suddenly decide she wanted to have the family she hadn’t wanted all these years? She was his mom, yeah, and he felt a little bad about it, but Jim just wanted her gone.

Pulling out of his curled-up hunch, Jim looked up and realized with surprise that his desk—and everything that had been on it—was hovering and bobbing gently in midair. Shit. He hadn’t used magic without meaning to like this in years.

Setting the desk down very, very gently, Jim allowed himself a small groan and scrubbed at his eyes. Whatever ended up happening, this was going to be a mess.

* * *

Jim sat in the window seat, trying to avoid touching any part of his mother’s arm, and stared angrily out the window of the plane on the way to their _wonderful new home_ in Georgia. He could almost feel the pleased satisfaction radiating off his mother in waves. It was disgusting. He wished it was Sam sitting next to her instead, and him that got the seat across the aisle.

Their grandparents had done everything they could think of to keep Winona from taking the boys, but in the end she hadn’t budged. And she was their parent, so when she finally threatened—politely, of course—to get legal authorities involved, Grandma and Grandpa had had no choice but to back down. Jim got that, he really did. He wasn’t angry at them. But he really, really hated his mom.

It had been a little under two weeks since she showed up at their house, and Jim had lost control of his magic four times since then. And yet, even when he accidentally set her suitcase on fire, she hadn’t been fazed. Just waved a hand at it calmly as the flames extinguished from her magic. She didn’t seem to care. In fact, Jim thought, she didn’t seem to care about anything except getting her boys to come with her.

“I don’t like this,” he’d said to Grandpa Tiberius, quietly, while they were in the basement, dragging out old cardboard boxes for Jim and Sam to pack their belongings in.

“I don’t either,” said his grandfather. “We can’t stop it right now, none of us, but something about this is very wrong.”

“I want to stay,” Jim said helplessly. “I don’t want to go with her.”

“I know, Jim. I’m sorry. I wish I could go with you, protect you, make sure everything’s okay. I wish I could keep you here. But neither of us get a choice. Jim, I need you to promise me: you contact me the second you notice something wrong. Got it? I’ll bring the cavalry. If anything is bad, if anything makes your spider senses go crazy into danger mode, you call me and you haul ass. Promise me, Jim.”

“I promise,” Jim said softly.

Grandpa Tib put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Trust your instincts, Jim. They haven’t led you wrong yet.”

Now, on the plane, Jim turned back, staring across the aisle at Sam. He frowned slightly at his brother, who had been just as opposed to all this as Jim was, but who ever since getting to the airport and away from their grandparents had seemed to be excited for the move more and more. Had Sam been faking before? Jim didn’t think so. This didn’t seem like Sam. Especially when Sam started brushing Jim off like he was an annoying little brother, which, sure, he technically was, but Sam wasn’t like that before. It was weird, and Jim didn’t like it one bit. But there was nothing concrete for him to put his finger on, nothing wrong enough to ring a definite alarm.

Just this aching sense of unease. Like dark shivers were running down his vertebrae, one by one, and something was whispering in his ear to get out of there and run. But he couldn’t. This was his mother, and his family, and he was only 15. So he would watch and wait and be careful, and hopefully this was all just him overreacting. Maybe that was all it was. A guy could hope.

There was movement next to him, and suddenly Jim found his chin caught in the grip of his mother, who was staring at his face like it was a painting she was trying to find meaning in. Her gaze flicked over every crest and curve of his features, lingering finally to stare right into his own.

“You know, Jimmy, they say that eyes are the windows to the soul,” she said, sugar-sweet and dripping with fondness. “And yours are so specially bright and full of life. Take good care of them, Jimmy.” She trailed a cool fingertip along the crest of bone just under his left eye. “There are things in this world that would very much like to steal a beautiful soul like yours. _Your_ windows are ever so clear.”

Jim jerked away, thoroughly spooked, but he could only move back a few inches before hitting the interior wall of the plane. Winona looked at him intently for a few more seconds, still smiling, then leaned back into her headrest and closed her eyes.

Jim’s heart hammered in his chest and all his spirit could do was scream _wrong wrong wrong_. When she touched him, Jim _knew_. This…whatever this was…was something very, very wrong. There was no love in this woman. There was no care for her children. When she touched him, Jim felt a gnawing, aching hunger and deep selfishness that were more powerful than any human was capable of. Whatever this thing was, it was not his mother. They needed to get _away_.

But somehow, Jim feared, it might already be too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to a head. Jim is kind of a badass, and also reckless.

They moved in on a Friday.

 

Jim slammed the back door of the SUV behind him and walked around to the back of the car. Sam was already wandering his way up the lawn to the front door of their new house, completely oblivious to the complete terror boiling within his younger brother.  

Jim yanked his suitcase out of the car trunk, trailing behind Sam and _whatever_ was walking around in Winona's skin, impersonating their mother. He honestly didn't know what to do. Their "mother" hadn't given him any chance to call their grandparents back in Iowa, as he'd promised them he would do once they landed safely. She wouldn't let them wait to pick up any of their other boxes or bags of things that they'd brought down here in the move, hustling them out of the airport with nothing but their carry-ons. 

 

Sam was acting like he was bewitched or something, which, okay, was actually pretty likely at this point. He was almost serene, and super chill about everything. Sam didn't seem to mind moving at all anymore. Even though it changed his whole life, even though he had to leave his home, leave his school, leave his girlfriend that was hopefully going to be his fiance...Sam just...didn't seem to care. At all.

 

 _Jim_ sure cared. Jim cared so much he thought he'd explode. He didn't know why whatever Not-Winona was doing only seemed to work on Sam, but he guessed he should feel lucky that he wasn't under her spell already too. At least he had a chance of doing something about it.

 

What _was_ she? Jim couldn't figure it out. Not a banshee, not a sidhe, not anything else he'd heard of. She didn't look like a mormo, or a dracaena, and the situation wasn't right for her to be a beldam. She had to be something he hadn't seen before. She definitely wanted to consume their souls or something, that's all he knew. And having his soul eaten was something Jim kind of wanted to avoid.

 

As he walked towards the front door, Jim quickly pulled out his phone, hoping to make his call while she wasn't watching. But when he looked at the screen, his heart dropped. Of course. _No service._ Jim groaned.

 

He should have known.  

 

Not-Winona left him and Sam alone for a little while while they were supposed to be unpacking (what she thought they really had to unpack without the boxes of their actual belongings, Jim didn't know), and Jim took the opportunity to dart over into Sam's room. He shut the door behind him as silently as possible.

 

"Sam."

 

His brother looked up, smiled. "Hey, Jim! What's up?"

 

"Isn't this weird? She wouldn't let us get our stuff from the airport? And we can't check in with Grandma and Grandpa? This doesn't feel right."

 

"I don't think anything's wrong, Jim. We had a long flight, we were all tired. I don't think any of us wanted to wait around the airport for the boxes we'd shipped."

 

" _I_ did," Jim replied, indignant. "Sam, those have all of our things in them. We didn't even put pajamas in our carry-ons."

 

Sam waved a hand, brushing Jim's words off. "It's fine, we'll get them later."

 

"But calling Grandma and Grandpa?" Jim pressed. "We promised we'd call them. She wouldn't let us at the airport, and now I have no service. Even though when I looked it up last week, we _should_ have full coverage around here."

 

"They can wait. Mom's just busy. Like you should be. Don't you have things to unpack?"

 

" _No_ ," Jim hissed, "because I don't have any of my _luggage_."

 

Jim and Sam both froze as the door creaked opened suddenly. 

 

Not-Winona stood in the doorway, a radiant smile on her face. Her eyes, flitting between Jim and Sam, were markedly less friendly. "It's all so _nice_ to be settling in a place all our own, isn't it?" she said sweetly. "Just the three of us, and no one else to get in our way."

 

Jim swallowed hard.

 

She looked at him, smile still impeccable and gaze sharp as lightning. "Shouldn't you be unpacking?"

 

"Yes ma'am," Jim whispered, and darted past her out the door.

 

\----------

 

For the next two days, Jim wandered the house. He scoured the basement, found every nook and cranny, located all windows and doors, and didn't find a single thing out of the ordinary. Nothing to explain the feeling of _wrongness_ he had every moment they were in that house. He wasn't willing to chalk it up to her presence anymore, because even when she was on the other side of the building it was like he could feel the darkness coming out of the walls. And floor. And sink. And tile. 

 

Jim spent a lot of time hiding in the bathroom. He couldn't stand to be around Not-Winona, and Sam was almost as bad, with the way he didn't even act like a person anymore. Sam couldn't seem to think on his own now, and was definitely under Not-Winona's thumb, who he absolutely believed was their mother. 

 

Jim had even done a basic revealing spell on the house, as best he could, but no luck. He couldn't find anything actually wrong. 

 

But the wrongness remained, and Not-Winona was still creepy as hell, and Sam was still all changed, and Jim's things—what few he had—began to disappear. 

 

First it was his phone, which he missed—although with no service, it didn't really do him a lot of good anyway. Then his books. And then, terrifyingly, everything he had that he used to perform magic. Stones, wand, herbs, grimoire, all gone. Even the pocket knife he had with the runes on it. He should have figured she'd take them. He stewed and raged silently, but in the end, there wasn't anywhere he could have hidden them. And he could still do magic. She couldn't take that from him. It was just a lot easier with the proper tools. 

 

Finally, his money vanished too. So even a payphone or bus fare back to Iowa was no longer an option, assuming he could ever manage to run away. And that was a slim, slim chance, because she was _everywhere_. If Jim so much as looked out the front door, she was there. She watched him _all the time._ It was terrifying. Jim spent a lot of the time he had free covertly trying to place as many protective wards as he knew around himself and Sam.

 

Monday rolled around, and Jim and Sam were both up and ready to head to their new high school—as much as they could be, anyway, without any of their school supplies or their IDs. But Not-Winona came out to the kitchen as they wolfed down the bowls of cereal they had made.

 

"What are you boys doing up so early?"

 

Sam swallowed his current bite. "It's a school day."

 

"Oh, you aren't going to school right now!"

 

"What?" 

 

"I don't think it's the right time for you to start at this new school yet. We haven't settled in fully yet! We need more time to get comfortable here and...get to know one another. Properly. Like a real family."

 

Jim thunked his cereal bowl back down on the counter. 

 

"It's _school_ ," snapped Jim. "It's not optional. We have to go. And we want to go. We're in the middle of the school year. It'll be hard enough to change schools like this _without_ missing any of our classes."

 

" _Watch your attitude,_ " Not-Winona said coldly. "I said you're not going to school today. End of discussion."

 

"But—"

 

"She's right, Jim," Sam said mildly. "We could use some more time as a family. I don't really want to go meet so many new people just yet."

 

"Sam, we—"

 

Not-Winona threw her hands up in the air. "Just accept it, Jimmy, I'm doing you boys a favor. Sam understands that! Why can't you?"

 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I haven't been _brainwashed_ into believing all your lies?" Jim snarled.

 

Not-Winona's expression turned frigid. "Jimmy, that was uncalled for. Apologize."

 

"No," Jim replied stubbornly. "I'm sick of playing this _game_ with you."

 

"All right," she said coldly. "If you want it this way, I'm happy to oblige. It seems to me that you need a lesson in respect. You can come out when I think you're going to behave."

 

Before Jim could get a word out, she flicked her wrist, and Jim found himself flung down the hallway into the mirror on the closet door. But instead of the painful impact he'd tried to brace for, he flew straight through the mirror and into a dark, cold space on the other side. He slammed into a hard wall and dropped to his hands and knees on the floor. 

 

Not-Winona's head popped through the wall, and she snarled, "I hope you make the right choice soon, _Jimmy_. My patience only lasts for so long. I'm sure you don't want me to take out any frustrations on your brother—he's already such a fragile thing."

 

Jim lunged at her, but she pulled back out of his reach. Her parting words drifted through the blank wall. 

 

"I'll check back in a few days. Maybe by then you'll have learned some cooperation."

 

Jim yelled and slammed his fists down on the wall. He raged around the room for a few minutes until he tired himself out, then sat on the floor quietly for what seemed like ages, just breathing.

 

If Not-Winona was going to leave him in here without anything to eat or drink, she couldn't do it for very long if she wanted him alive. Two to three days at most. So he just had to keep from losing it until then. In the meantime, he figured, he should try his hand at guerrilla warfare.

 

For hours, Jim sat on the floor and struggled against the forces preventing him from doing any magic. The barriers was powerful, but Jim was determined. Eventually, after a lot of work, he managed to wrangle out very small bits of magic. He tried to get a small orb of light to hover and light up the space he was in, but it never lasted longer than thirty seconds or so before going out. 

 

Jim slept again, then continued trying to do magic. He didn't manage to produce anything more than he had the day before. Once he thought he managed to get a part of the wall to shimmer for just a moment, but by the time he touched it the magic had failed. By that point, Jim was sluggish, and feeling sick. He hardly had any energy left to spare. When he woke up next, it was all he could do to drag himself partially upright against a wall.

 

Some time later, Not-Winona's hands shot through and shattered the hazy drift Jim was lost in. She yanked him through the mirror and into the bright regular world, dumping him back on the floor. As adrenaline flooded through him in a rush, he scrambled to his feet. Not-Winona smiled. It was harsh, something dangerous in its corners and behind her teeth. 

 

Jim swayed a little, still dizzy. Whatever was about to happen, he needed to be ready. He could already feel his normal access to magic was back, which was about the only thing he had going for him.

 

"Feeling all right, I hope?" asked Not-Winona.

 

"What do you want?" sighed Jim.

 

She shook her head in mock disappointment. "That's no way to talk to your mother."

 

"Drop the act," Jim said tiredly. "I don't have the energy for it. We both know you're not my mother."

 

"Fine." She tossed her hair. "I had hoped your time in the dark would teach you some respect, but I guess I was wrong. You'd better be careful, or you'll find yourself back there like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "Are you willing to behave long enough to see your dear brother?"

 

"Yes...ma'am." Jim could hardly keep the venom out of his voice.

 

"Wonderful. Come on, then."

 

She led him down the hall, up to the second floor, all the way to the door of Sam's room. Jim realized as they walked that the house no longer looked like the nice, normal building they'd moved into. It was a wreck. Leaky holes in the ceiling, ancient wood floors, one of the steps was missing; he saw mold creeping up walls behind peeling wallpaper. Had the house been like this all this time, and Jim hadn't been able to see it? Or had Not-Winona warped it during his time in that cell? Which one was the illusion?

 

Then Jim opened the door, and every thought dropped out of his mind. Sam was laying under a ragged, dirty sheet on a rusted bedframe, pale as a ghost and shriveled like he had been starved for weeks. Jim ran for him, reaching for a pulse, one hand landing on the bed for support and sending up a cloud of dust.

 

"Is he _dead?_ " Jim said in a strangled yell. No, there was his pulse, just barely. Far too slow.

 

"Not yet," Not-Winona said calmly. "But nearly."

 

Jim whipped around and faced her. "Let him go."

 

"No, I don't think so."

 

"I'm going to kill you."

 

She smiled. "You're welcome to try. But don't you think you should worry about dear brother first? He doesn't have much time left."

 

"You could stop this! I know you're draining him! Let us go. Why are you doing this?"

 

"I'm an energy vampire," Not-Winona replied. She stretched her hand out in front of her as if she had nothing more pressing to do than inspect her fingernails. "It's what I _do_. I can't survive without feeding on you humans."

 

"Why us?" Jim asked desperately, feeling selfish, but still unable to help it.

 

"Because of you, actually. Magic users are so delicious. All that wonderful energy, all that extra potential. You were already a good target. And then your underage brother made it a package deal, even if he isn't magic, and of course I couldn't resist."

 

"So this is my fault," Jim said brokenly. 

 

"No, not really. You're what drew me, but thanks to your mother, the whole situation was just so convenient. I love the legal system."

 

"Where's our Mom? What did you do to _her?_ "

 

"Nothing. She was already dead when I stepped in to take her place. She was killed by some rogue werewolf over a month ago, right as I was getting hungry from my last feed. The timing was perfect."

 

"You're a monster," Jim said, tears pooling in his eyes. He hadn't been close with his mother, exactly, but she was still his mother. She was always a consistent, if distant, part of life. For her to just be gone without them knowing...it hurt.

 

"Yes, dear. But I am letting you see your brother one last time, aren't I?"

 

"What's the use? You've got him bewitched, he doesn't even know anything is wrong. He probably can't even feel himself dying. Come on, just take me instead. You've already got nearly everything he has. Just start on me. I'll let you, no fighting."

 

"Mmm, what a tempting offer! Such a noble deal. But I'm afraid I can't. I have to take all of his energy, or I get none. If I let him go now, I'll lose all the life I gained."

 

"So do it!"

 

"My patience is running out," she growled. "Tell your brother goodbye before I cut his last tie to life, or get out. I'm doing it either way."

 

Jim slowly unclenched his fists. "Fine." He turned back to Sam, bending to whisper in his ear. "I'm going to get us out of this. I swear. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep her from you." 

 

Jim tensed, breathed in, and snapped around to face Not-Winona, throwing everything he had into harnessing the power of the Sun. He pulled the light coming in the dirty, broken window panes and roped them into loops, sending them to whirl around her in a malestrom. She shrieked, throwing a wave of dark energy at him that knocked him into the wall. But though dazed, he maintained the rings, swirling faster, constricting tighter, until she was trapped. 

 

Not-Winona blasted him back, slamming him back into the hard metal of Sam's bed. Jim tumbled backwards onto the floor on the other side, and the rings of light vanished. She threw another wave at him, and he felt his energy drained more. Jim groaned. 

 

"You want energy?" he shouted over her roaring. He shoved himself up with the help of the wall and threw his hands out towards her. "Then have some energy!"

 

His hair lifted from the sheer amount of energy he was channeling, and floated up around his head like a wild halo. His entire body began to glow faintly. Sunlight and lightning and fire flew from his fingers to wrap around Not-Winona in ever-tightening bonds. She howled, and screamed, raged with all her power to get free. She threw wave after wave of dark magic at Jim. But Jim didn't let the bindings fail. He added more, raining all the energy he could reach on top of her. What glass was left in the rotting window panes shattered. The whole room groaned. 

 

Jim yelled fiercely, and threw everything he had forward in one last push. Blood began to run down his face from his nose, and his entire body shook with strain. But Not-Winona began to split apart at the seams, her skin rending in rips of light, bleeding fire. She crumbled. Collapsed. Her death screams were so loud, Jim thought his eardrums would burst. 

 

As the last of her form disintigrated to ash, a black cloud rose up out of Jim's energy bindings, drifiting menacingly towards Sam on the bed.

 

" _No,_ " Jim growled, and shoved a blast of pure light at it. There was one last unholy shriek, and a sound and fury like a hurricane tore around the roo, knocking Jim to the ground, and then everything was silent.

 

Jim groaned and tried to pushed himself up, but fell. He was nearly drained dry from all the energy he had exerted and his lack of anything to eat or drink for days on end, but he had to get to Sam. Taking a deep breath, he pulled on the power of the Sun. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it got him to his feet. Jim staggered over to his brother, who looked like a pale ghost on the ratty bed.

 

" _Sam?_ " he whispered, one shaking hand reaching out to feel for a pulse. When he felt it, Jim nearly fell to his knees in relief. Alive. He was still alive.

 

Just then, Sam's eyes cracked open slightly. "Jim?" It came out as a faint mumble.

 

"Yeah, I'm back," Jim said, laughing through his tears. "It's over. She's gone."

 

Sam closed his eyes again. "Sorry," he breathed. "Didn't...realize...'nything was wrong..."

 

"No, it's not your fault, Sam, she had you all bewitched. I didn't figure it out either until it was almost too late. But we're gonna be okay."

 

The corners of Sam's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Useless," he mumbled.

 

"No you're _not_. Remember all the times you've carried me around places ever since we were little kids? I can finally repay the favor."

 

Sam got out a faint snort, but was already slipping away again. Jim shoved his brother into something that was hopefully a proper fireman's carry, drawing more energy from the nearby sunlight to help him stay standing as he lifted. He walked slowly but surely out of the bedroom and through the house to the front door, hanging on its rusted hinges. 

 

"Just hang on, Sam," Jim whispered. "we're going to get back home."

 

And then Jim started walking, down the gravel road. He didn't know exactly how long it was, but it was at least a couple of miles from the main road to their house if he remembered from the drive to get there. He sent out little calls, magic calls, in various directions, over and over again. Tiny calls for help, that would be noticed by other magic users—if any were close enough. As he felt more blood rolling down his lips, Jim really hoped someone was. He couldn't go much longer. He already felt hazy and loose at the seams. 

 

Jim eventually dropped to his knees clumsily as his legs began to give out. He couldn't drag both himself and Sam any further, so he set Sam down as gently as he could and put all his remaining ability into contacting someone, _anyone_ at all. His vision was rapidly graying out.

 

Suddenly a response came back—a faint, concerned inquiry, asking _where_ and _what's wrong_ , and Jim was flooded with relief. He laughed once, and flung back a hasty reply that said _here_ and _monster_ and _brother dying_ and _help_ , then fell the rest of the way to the gravel ground. The last of the borrowed energy was leaving him now, and he was falling into blackness, and he knew he might not wake up. But it was worth it. Sam was alive. The energy vampire hadn't won. Help would soon be on its way. Jim let himself go.

 

Whatever happened now, it was going to be all right. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sam was going to die originally, but during the last chunk of writing, I decided to have mercy. I figured the poor boy had been through enough, and also, Jim + survivor's guilt is more angst than I mean to deal with. So, Sam lives! Woo hoo!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the space of half a second and a full eternity, Jim suddenly remembered everything that happened and shot upright in a knee-jerk reaction. He didn't notice his muscles and joints screaming as he tore off the blanket covering him and practically flung himself over the side of the bed. Unfortunately for Jim, his adrenaline and determination didn't change the fact that he had very little strength. His feet had hardly hit the floor before they went out from under him. Jim went down with a loud thunk and a yelp.

Jim had a few moments where he felt like he was waking up, but like on a lazy day when school was out for break he didn't feel a need to leave the comfort and warmth of sleep yet and slipped back off into comfortable sleep. He wasn't aware enough any of those times to remember that anything strange had happened, or to feel the exhaustion and aches that weighed his body down.

 

When he finally did wake up fully, it was a sudden slide from warm sleep to complete awareness. He felt a little bit like he'd woken suddenly from an uncomfortable dream, but couldn't remember dreaming anything at all. Jim grunted softly as he felt aches roll through his body all over when he went to shift positions. He lay still for another minute and wondered why it didn't sound like it normally did in his room.

 

In the space of half a second and a full eternity, Jim suddenly remembered everything that happened and shot upright in a knee-jerk reaction. He didn't notice his muscles and joints screaming as he tore off the blanket covering him and practically flung himself over the side of the bed. Unfortunately for Jim, his adrenaline and determination didn't change the fact that he had very little strength. His feet had hardly hit the floor before they went out from under him. Jim went down with a loud thunk and a yelp.

 

Immediately, he heard footsteps rushing down the hallway. The door was shoved open, and Jim was suddenly staring at a young man with very ruffled dark hair and smudges under his eyes that looked like he probably hadn't slept in a while. They stared at each other for a few beats in silence before the man in the doorway exploded into sound and action so fast that Jim startled and whacked his head on the nightstand behind him.

 

"What are you doing out of bed? How are you even _awake_ yet? Dad thought you had at least another day, and you _definitely_ aren't ready to get up yet even if you managed to wake up this soon." As he scolded, he was bodily hauling Jim off the floor and deposited him in the bed with surprising care. Jim was at a loss for words as the other man quickly and thoroughly checked him over for injuries and got the pillows and covers settled comfortably back around him without a single break in his rant.

 

"—and after all that effort getting you stabilized and back from the brink of death, the first thing you do is launch yourself right off the bed like you think you're some kind of race car or something, and lord knows it would serve you right if you did hurt yourself again with that fool stunt, and make it take even longer before you can go see your brother—"

 

"Brother?" Jim exclaimed as he finally found his voice and tried to surge up again, grabbing the young man's shirt in his fist.

 

" _Len,_ " called a voice with a tinge of tired amusement from the doorway. The young man's mouth snapped shut and he stood up from where he was peeling Jim's fingers from his shirt.

 

"Dad! He's awake."

 

The older man smiled. "I can see that," he said. "Report?"

 

"Even though he had that fall when he tried to get up just now, it doesn't look like it did any more damage, _thank goodness,_ " the younger man replied with a firey glare at Jim.

 

"Good." The older man walked over to the bed and held out his hand for Jim to shake. "Hi Jim, I'm Dr. McCoy. I'm sure this is pretty confusing for you. You're in Georgia, just outside Marietta. My son Leonard and I found you and your brother after you sent your message, and brought you back here."

 

"My brother—" Jim had a white knuckle grip on the covers now.

 

"He's alive, don't worry," Dr. McCoy reassured him. "He's in rough shape, like you are, but both of you should recover just fine. We're taking good care of him, I promise."

 

"He's alive?" Jim choked out.

 

"He's alive. He woke up for a few minutes this morning and asked about you. He'll be weak for a while while he gets back strength, but he's going to be _fine_."

 

"So will you," Leonard added. His father nodded.

 

"What happened? When you found us?" Jim asked.

 

Dr. McCoy pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and sat on the edge of the bed, pressing the end of the stethoscope to Jim's chest. "You managed to get about a mile down the road from the house I'm guessing you boys came from. You made it just outside of the dead zone that whatever creature you fought had put up, which was very lucky. If you'd stopped just a little sooner, your message wouldn't have made it out to anyone. Breathe in for me," he said, and paused. "You two were both nearly dead, and Len and I were afraid you weren't going to made it for a while. But you pulled through," he finished with a smile, putting the stethoscope around his neck.

 

"Where's Sam?"

 

"He's at the hospital for now. We had to get him IV nutrition and fluids fast, and with the shortage right now we wouldn't be able to get those supplies smuggled out of the hospital without getting caught. He should be able to come stay with us instead in another couple of days, since I've been treating him magically as well to speed up the process."

 

"Dad's a healer," Leonard interjected. "Best you could ask for. However you remember Sam being when you last saw him, he's a lot better now. It's lucky he's receptive to magic, even after such a traumatic experience."

 

"Yeah," Jim said, falling back against the pillows. He felt tension drain out of his muscles he hadn't even realized he was clenching. "Do you know what happened?"

 

Dr. McCoy shook his head. "Only your SOS, and what we observed. Was there an energy vampire?" Jim nodded. "That's what I guessed. Nothing else I know can drain someone so thoroughly. What happened, Jim? We haven't been able to find anything about you two since we don't have a last name."

 

Jim told them what he remembered, from the day his "mother" was at the house when he came home from school, to Grandpa Tiberius' warning, to the fight to escape and then passing out at the end.

 

"Can I call my grandparents?" asked Jim.

 

"Of course. I'm going to check you over again more when you've done that. There's a phone on the nightstand there, and you just knock on the wall behind you when you're done. Len will hear."

 

"Thank you," Jim said solemnly. "Thank you for saving us."

 

"I'm just glad we were able to help. You did a good job, Jim. It's going to be all right." Dr. McCoy patted Jim's knee through the cover as he stood up, before leaving the room. Leonard made sure there was a glass of water within reach of Jim before he followed suit.

 

Taking a deep breath in, Jim reached over and picked up the phone.

 

* * *

 

Things weren't perfect from there, of course. The boys were both exhausted and had a lot of recovering to do. Sam spent most of his time the first week just sleeping, barely waking up long enough to eat another meal and pass out again. Jim wasn't much better—he was awake most of the time, but felt like he'd been run over by a Jeep and then wrung out like a dish towel. There was an ache in him even deeper than physical, and Dr. McCoy explained that he'd burned out not only physically but magically as well. It was all Jim could do to make a sunbeam twist a little on its course from the window to the opposite wall. It was a good thing Sam wasn't really awake most of the time yet yet, because Jim wouldn't have been able to sit with him much anyway.

 

"It'll get better with time," Dr. McCoy reassured him. "And so will your body." And he was right. For once in his life (mostly because Leonard kept threatening bodily harm if he didn't listen), Jim followed the McCoy's instructions to stay put in bed, let them take care of him, and rest. Each day he got a little stronger, and eventually Leonard decided he was well enough to play Mario Kart. In between bickering with each other over who threw what turtle shell, Jim and Leonard got to know each other more.Leonard learned that Jim was a human ball of adventure and wanted to be either an engineer or a pilot when he was older, and Jim heard all about the McCoy family history of magic and how Leonard was going to follow in his father's footsteps as a doctor and carry on the tradition of healing. He was already only a few years away from med school, studying as a pre-med at the local college.

 

Jim and Sam's grandparents caught the first flight down to Georgia that they could. It took Jim two days to convince them to stop feeling guilty for not protecting the boys, because as Jim and Sam reminded them, "Winona" had the legal power and there was nothing they could have done. They could have fought her, sure, and the four of them combined would likely have won, but she was just too well camoflaged for any of them to have seen what she really was. It was no one's fault but the energy vampire's.

 

Sam, when he was finally feeling stronger, spent most of the second week lounging in the McCoy's garden. Jim and Leonard—who Jim had by now dubbed "Bones" after Leonard went on a rant about his human anatomy class and how people just refused to memorize the names of the bones even though they were important—sat with him and practiced magic lazily most of the time. When both of the boys were strong enough, the McCoy's had a large and amazing dinner for the Kirks, and Grandma Kirk threatened to come and drag them up to Iowa herself if they didn't come visit soon to let the Kirks return the favor.

 

After hugs, handshakes, and some terrible jokes all around, the Kirks left to head back home. Jim and Bones were texting incessantly less than two minutes after the taxi had driven off, and somehow Jim just had the feeling that no matter what twists and turns were coming next in their lives, Jim and Bones were going to be tied together through all of them. Despite having nothing obviously in common, and being four years apart, something glued the two of them together, and they were going to find out what.

 

But for now?

 

Jim put his phone in his pocket, and smiled over at his brother in the seat next to him as the plane readied for takeoff. Sam grinned back and reached out to ruffle Jim's hair. Jim thumped him soundly on the arm. Their grandma told them to knock it off, while Grandpa Tib's eyes squinched up with muffled laughter. Jim leaned back in his seat, still smiling, and watched the ground begin to roll away out the small airplane window. He silently reached out to hold Sam's hand.

 

For now, he was just glad they were both alive. There was a lot more life left to see.


End file.
